First Days
by AllofDrBlythe
Summary: A PG version of another Anne and Gil story as they begin their marriage
1. Chapter 1

As Anne stomped her way along the sand, her conversation…or lecture…from Rachel Lynde, was still flaming its way through her mind. It wasn't as if she herself hadn't wondered about such things herself, but to have to sit there and have such words circling around her, from Rachel of all people, was enough to make her want to run headlong into the waves, just so that she wouldn't have to think about this morning ever again.

The only thought that cooled her fury was the knowledge that she would soon be married to Gil. She had denied it for ages, but now she knew in her soul that only he could ever be her kindred spirit. When she thought of him, every indignation brought by Rachel became distant and unfocused. She was counting the hours until he was her husband.

"I should probably be crawling back home," she conceded aloud. "The house is a beehive right now, thanks to Diana and Rachel, and my absence will only make things harder for them." Giving one last appreciative smile at the ocean, she turned towards home and nearly crashed into Gil.

"Deciding to hurl yourself into the briny deep to save yourself from an unhappy fate, my darling?" Gil smirked with his hands on his hips. No one could tease her more cleverly than Gil. No one's teasing was more enjoyable than his.

"Well, I had thought of several ways to save myself. Hanging myself from the rafters was too dramatic, even for me, but the idea of being washed away by the tides to my watery death was quite appealing just now. Of course, Diana would be furious. She never would forgive me for interfering with her wedding organizing."

Anne didn't think that Gilbert's smile had ever been so bright and warm. He wasn't saying much, just savoring another moment of banter with his Anne as he faced her and extended his hand. "Sit with me a bit, will you? It's been a long time since we've had much time alone without someone flinging lace and ribbons and invitations at us."

To Anne, this sounded like the best idea she had heard in months. She plopped her slender self down where she stood, and Gil did the same next to her. Gil held her small hands in both of his and Anne leaned her head silently on his shoulder. They sat like this for ten minutes, both of them appreciating the quiet and the peace and the sound of the waves.

Gilbert was the first to speak. "Anne, I'm glad I found you. I know that the last few weeks of wedding planning has been hard on you. It's been hard on ME! I've been trying to keep an eye on you, making sure you are getting rest, and it seems like you haven't been getting much at all. I don't know how you could. Diana's house starts quaking at six am and they don't stop until midnight, and you, my lovely one, are at the center of all of it. I at least get to go home. I know it's wearing you. I haven't seen you eating much, either. So, I'm concerned a bit."

The tears were already rolling down Anne's face, and Gilbert reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. Anne took it in her hands and started folding it and unfolding it, over and over. "I have so many things to think about. All I want, all I truly want, is to be your wife and have the wedding be over. I know that this is Diana's joy in life, to plan parties, and she is my dearest sister, but all day long, people are chasing me, Gil. I tried to take a walk down the lane just to escape the constant scurrying of Diana and her mother, and before I'd been gone for five minutes, Fred was chasing me, saying that Diana was near hysterics looking for me."

Gilbert was silent. He took one of his hands off of Anne and wrapped it around her waist and pulled her closer. "I was so afraid it would be like this for you. I feel guilty. I should have just taken you away and married you and returned you to Avonlea as a married woman."

Anne tried to chuckle, but it sounded more melancholy than she wanted it to. "Gilbert, I know that this will all be fine. I'm just tired, and Diana is an angel, so is everyone else, I just…I'm tired."

Gil inhaled deeply and kissed her hair, "Anne, I promise that we just have mere hours to wait, and then this will be a memory. After the vows, I'll take you away in a flowery carriage and I'll save you from these hordes of people and we can start our life. Just you. Just me. The way it should be."

That sounded so good. Anne leaned in closer into him. She could hear his heartbeat. To her, he smelled like sunshine and soap and rubbing alcohol and hospital, but the deeper she breathed him in, the more she found her Gil. Then she thought of Rachel, and the reason she had fled to the shore. She lowered her head and rested it on Gil's shoulder again and clung to him, without talking. Gilbert allowed her to find comfort there, and let her rest for a while.

He finally whispered, "Anne, is there something I need to know? I know you are anxious for this to be over, and I know it has been hard, but am I getting this right? Is it just the wedding? Are you feeling well? When I found you here, you looked so pale. Please tell me if you're not well." He continued with a smirky smile in his voice, "Really, Carrots. You know, I am unusually qualified to make you feel better. Medical school was pretty thorough, and I scored very high marks." He tried to joke, but he was serious. She looked too tired and too lifeless for Anne Shirley.

"I'm just tired. When I get into bed, I try to sleep, but then I remember all of the things I promised to get done, and then I feel guilty for sleeping. Last night wasn't so bad, but this morning, when Rachel said….." She stopped talking and was angry at herself for bringing up Rachel.

"What did Rachel say to you this morning?" Gilbert pressed.

Anne did not want to share those stupid words with him. She knew he would be upset at such stupidity. She worried he would be upset that Anne gave them any heed at all.

Anne sat up on her knees and faced Gilbert. She wrapped both arms around him and kissed his neck. Gilbert took in a quick breath and enjoyed her closeness, but he murmured again, "what did Rachel say to you this morning?"

In between little kisses on his neck, Anne responded, "Rachel Lynde is someone that speaks without knowing her subject. She means well, but I don't think she is someone that I want to think about right now. Kiss me, Dr. Blythe."

Gilbert rose up to his knees and kissed Anne's cheek, her nose and her cheek again. He pressed himself closer to her and kissed her lips. She responded immediately and he couldn't help but deepen the kiss. He wanted to kiss her like this for hours. If they had already been married and if he had known for sure that no one was within five miles of them, he would have pulled her onto the sand and kissed her until the next day.

Anne started to feel weak and broke off the kiss, grabbed his strong, warm hand and laid herself down on the sand, like a piece of seaweed, closed her eyes and rested. Gil put his other hand over her eyes when he saw her squinting out the strong sun.

Gil sat down on the sand and said, "My darling Anne. I cannot wait until tomorrow, when we are official." He pulled one hand free and casually placed it on her wrist."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to find out what has put my almost wife into a state of I-don't-know-what. So, I'm doing what I learned in medical school and residency."

Anne managed a small laugh and said, "Fine, Dr. Blythe, just please let me rest while I can."

Her pulse was fairly normal, maybe a bit fast. but still acceptable. He counted her respirations and they were becoming slower and deeper. Her color was still paler than he thought it should be, and he announced, "Anne. I'm not marrying you until you share your heart with me about this morning. Clearly, Rachel has said something ignorant, and it has affected you. That means it has affected me. Please just tell me, Anne-girl." While he spoke, he pressed gently on several areas of her abdomen and watched for any signs of discomfort.

"Any pain or tenderness, Anne?" he asked.

"No, Gil. As I've said, I'm just overtired and a flustered soul right now. I just need some peace, not an operation, although it would be an honor to have Canada's finest surgeon give me one."

He pulled her wrist up to his lips to give it a tiny kiss, and then used both of his hands to feel the sides of her neck. "Your lymph glands aren't enlarged."

"Gilbert Blythe, stop!"

"I'd love to, Beloved, but since you won't tell me what's on your heart, I have to keep looking for clinical signs of disease. I believe I may have to get a blood sample and see if your lymphocytes or erythrocytes will tell me what Rachel did to distress you so, since you refuse. "

Anne pulled herself out of her recline in the sand and placed a hand on his cheek and whispered, "Gil, it is so outrageous and so discomforting that I would like to keep it where it belongs, crumbled up and discarded and soon to be forgotten. But thank you, though, for being the most attentive and Gilliest of Gils."

"My Anne, I am certainly going to have quite a life with you, aren't I? May I ask you a favor?"

"Gil, I would do anything for you. Anything, at anytime, anywhere."

"Then show me that you trust me with anything. I want…I need to know that you trust me."

Anne sat back down and drew designs in the sand and Gil sat down again next to her. "Gil, it's not that I didn't trust you with it. It's that it is so stupid, and I didn't want you to think that something THAT stupid could upset me. Do you understand?"

Gil nodded with such earnestness that Anne knew that she was going to have to prove that she trusted him. It was that important to him.

Anne looked out onto the water and said, "Rachel came over early this morning. I thought she was going to argue again with Diana about which teaspoons and fish forks should be used at the wedding breakfast, but she got that look in her eyes, the look that reminds me of a rampaging bull, and she said, 'Anne. It's my duty, in honor of Marilla, rest her soul, that I speak to you at once, while there is still time.'"

Next thing I knew, she had my hand in hers and she was marching me up to the guest room. She sat me down on my bed and sat across from me and said, 'I know you are excited about your blessed day tomorrow. No one can ever say that I don't speak my mind, and I think you are marrying a fine man…a fine, fine man. But I have to let you know, that men are men, and that Gilbert is a man like any other.'"

A look of indigestion started to wash over Gilbert, but he erased it from his face quickly. He wanted Anne to know that she truly could tell him anything. "Go, on."

Anne lowered her eyes and made smaller movements in the sand, transferring one pile of sand to the pile next to it. "She said that Marilla should be the one sitting with me, but even if she was still with us, she hadn't been married, so that it was obvious that she must be the one."

"Alright. I see. Keep on."

"It was so mortifying. The embarrassment of it all." Anne gasped, "She said that the wedding will be the best part of the day because what comes after will be anything but pleasant. She said that, as your wife, I must do the right thing and submit to you and your…God given rights and husbandly activities, but that it will be an opportunity to offer up the bodily pain in reparation for my past sins and that if I….lay there and remain still and repeat Psalm 23 in a prayerful way, I will emerge with only a small amount of bleeding and pain and I might be spared becoming with child for a few months. She said that 'it's them that struggles so hard the first time that the Lord increases right away.'"

Practicing the calm questioning that medical school had taught him, Gilbert asked, "Did she say anything else?"

"She said that she was sure, after living on a farm, that I had seen the goats and the other beasts during mating, and that it wasn't much different with men. She said to bite my lips together if I need to, that I mustn't move, and that I must know that there is a price to pay for being married. At that point, Gil, I ran out before my heart stopped beating from humiliation. Can you understand why I wanted to just not talk about this?"

"Anne. Anne-girl, I am so sorry that this happened to you. I don't know quite where to start. First of all, of course, I can understand that you were upset. I'm upset just listening to what was told to you. Rachel is unlike any other woman I have ever met. I…I…want the wedding to be over so that we can start our lives together, just like you do. And I can understand how, as tired as you are, this must have felt like the straw that broke the camel's back."

Anne leaned into him and started to get up. Gil carefully placed her back on the sand next to her. "Anne, just one more moment?"

"Of course, Gil. I just thought the bloodhounds might be released on me soon if I don't return to the generals at army wedding headquarters."

Quietly, Gilbert whispered, "I can't let you leave this beautiful beach without saying this. You must know that I would never, ever want you to think of our marriage bed as a place of pain and terror, as Rachel told you. It might have been like that for Thomas and her, and…the… knowledge… that I have of this is derived from clinical lectures and actual cases, but I do love you and I admit that I have thought of this part of our life. I admit that I have thought of it more as the wedding draws closer. Every hair on your head, every freckle, every crazy thought you have, is loved by me. Anything that happens after the ceremony, and I will leave whatever that is up to you, is going to be done with me making sure everything is fine for you. I am not an animal on a farm. I am going to be your husband and your doctor and the father of your children, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for you. That's how much I love you. Remember how hard I fought for you? Remember what I put up with for so many years? That was because I can't live without you next to me, and I'm not going to do anything unless it is good for you."

There was nothing Anne could do that would be more appropriate than kissing him deeply and running her hands through his curls. She wanted, just then, to do that, and to do that all afternoon.

"Should we talk more about this now, or should we get you back?" Gil queried when he finally broke the kiss.

"I don't know, Dr. Gilbert Blythe, but I wish that you had come to speak with me this morning, instead of Dr. Rachel Lynde," Anne laughed.

"Well, I'll say that Dr. Blythe is thrilled that you have some more color in your cheeks. That's for sure, Anne. And I want to say this before we head back. Yes, many ladies do have pain, and some do bleed at the beginning, but I also know that there are things that can be done to prevent this, and I know this may embarrass you, so I'll stop, but I do know what those things are. As far as children are concerned, that is a big question. And we can take this slowly. And we can talk more. Mostly, thank you for telling me what you were afraid to tell me. I had to know. I'm glad you did."

They walked together to the house, arm and arm. Gil poured Anne a glass of milk and cut her some cheese and an apple, while Diana and Rachel went over the serving schedule, and he talked to her while she ate. If it had been appropriate, he would have sat her on his lap while she snacked. Anne is strong, Gilbert knew, probably the strongest woman he had ever known, but everyone had their limits and he didn't want her to become ill with worry of any kind.

He stayed later than usual, and when he decided it was time for her to sleep, he kissed her sweetly on the stairs and then ordered her to bed. "Tomorrow, you are my wife," he whispered, "and we won't have to leave each other at the end of the day, and we are going to be happy and rear a good family, and we will laugh and imagine and be together. And I expect you to sleep a full eight hours. Doctor's orders! Actually, what if I go home and get you something to make sure you do what I say? I'll bring something very mild that won't overly sedate you. It will take me five minutes." He kissed her check and turned to go.

Anne saw him giving this thought fertile ground and she grabbed him by both shoulders. "You will not come back to this house and drug me so that I sleep, Dr, Blythe! I am going to crawl into my bed and sleep like a rock. And you, my beloved, will see me tomorrow, under a bower of beautiful blooms, and we will get married. Good night."

Anne did sleep, and it was Gilbert who didn't find rest. He was furious at Rachel for upsetting Anne and assuming that he would brutalize her on their first night together. He knew she didn't mean it that way, but Anne _was _physically much smaller than him, and while she was fiery and spirited, she also deserved the most glorious and careful wedding night possible. He would hate himself for hurting or tearing her. His mind flashed back to the patient in Halifax who had been attacked by her drunken husband on their wedding night, and was injured so badly that she had required surgery to stop the bleeding.

When it was three am, and sleep remained elusive, he found a textbook on female health. He had long since passed the course, but if he had insomnia, he might as well read something that suddenly was of personal interest.

They both woke early on their wedding day, and while they were a mile away from each other, they both spent some time thinking about memories that were common to them. They were congratulated by both of their families and fed huge breakfasts that were nibbled instead of devoured. At 9:30, Anne was helped into her gown and Diana re-arranged her veil five times so that the lace and the ivy and the white baby roses all were bunched the way Diana had envisioned.

Gilbert's father shook his hand with pride as his voice quivered and said, "You will be an excellent husband and father. I could never imagine the amount of pride that you have brought me. Anne is so fortunate to have you. We all are. I wish Marilla could be here, but I honestly feel that she and Matthew will both be watching this wedding and will be happy that you are going to take care of their Anne."

"Anything that I have done that is good or honorable, I learned from you, Dad. Thank you for everything you did to help me get through my education. I hope that I am as good a father as you are."

Mr. Blythe's eyes got a little misty and he rubbed them dry with his sleeve. He suggested that they both get over to Diana's house as she was liable to send out the constable if they didn't get there soon.

No matter how many guests floated into their chairs, no matter how many flowers were strung and how many ribbons were tied, Anne could only look at Gilbert when she walked down the aisle, and Gilbert had to breathe deeply to keep steady on his feet as he watched her. When the minister pronounced them man and wife, he was living his dream, finally. They were married.

When they ran through a shower of rice hurled at them by their guests, they hugged and kissed their people, and they slid next to each other across the buggy seat and squeezed each other's hands. Family and friends were shouting congratulations to them, but neither of them heard. It was finally done, and they knew it was right.

There would be no wedding tour right away. They really didn't have time for one. Gilbert needed to take over the practice in Glen Saint Mary as soon as possible, and there was still equipment that needed to be ordered and boxes to be put away. The office was fairly well-stocked, but Gil was used to new and high quality equipment at the hospital and he wanted the best for his patients.

The ride to Glen Saint Mary seemed to fly by, and when Gil carried her over their threshold of their new home, Anne was amazed that the morning was already over. Neighbors that Gil had met while working at the house had brought over a warm chicken dinner and a loaf of bread that was still toasty, along with fresh butter, a huge chocolate layer cake and an earthenware pitcher of lemonade. The fire was already set and there was a lovely quilt wrapped in a tidy green bow resting on the hearth. Gil opened the small card and it read, "Welcome home to Dr. and Mrs. Blythe, with warm regards from your new neighbors." They were both touched.

"Shall I show you around, Mrs. Blythe?"

"That would be lovely, Dr. Blythe."

Each room was sweet and clean and several wedding gifts had already been moved in during the past week. Gil had been careful to leave the windows open after he had painted each room. There was only a small hint of fresh paint smell.

This was Anne's home. Gil had told her a lot about it, but as they toured together, she asked God to burn these memories into her heart of their first moments in their new home.

The last room he escorted her into was their bedroom. It was upstairs with a fireplace and burning embers shedding light on the dark walnut furniture. The large window had a view of a massive tree and one could sit on the bed and see the flowers that Gil had asked a gardener to plant blooming in their beds. Gil looked at Anne's face for signs of tension connected to yesterday's talk as they surveyed their bedroom together, and he didn't see any. He suggested that they go downstairs and have a cool drink of lemonade and some of that warm, crusty bread with fresh butter. They had already missed lunch and it was approaching suppertime.

After their snack, Gil suggested a walk outside. The air was so extra fresh that Anne and he both inhaled deeply. They could smell the ocean and they saw nearby trees that were so large that they both craned their neck to see the tops. Gil had one more surprise for his Anne-Girl. He grinned and said, "Come on. I have another surprise for you."

She walked slowly on his arm and he made his way to the backyard. There was a lovely, grand tree in the corner of the yard that shaded the whole back of their house, and hanging from it were new marine ropes and a piece of teakwood that was fashioned into a garden swing. "Hop on, Mrs. Blythe. I hoped that you would like this part of your new home." Anne scampered to the swing and started to trip on an ancient tree root, but caught herself and sat down.

"Push me, Gil." He grabbed the teak seat and gave a healthy push. The arc cut by the swing was grand and low and she beamed. She began to slow herself down after a moment because, as much as she loved the swing, she wanted to hold his hands much more. They were warm and strong and capable.

They found their way back into their little house and Gil excused himself to the restroom. Anne looked around the kitchen and moved some canisters into locations of which Marilla would have approved. She was surprised that the icebox had fresh ice in it and a supply of thick cut bacon and a basket of eggs, and someone had already stocked onions and potatoes in the root pantry. There was even a set of red glass spice jars filled to their tops with cinnamon and cloves and ginger. Gil must have many people wanting him to feel welcome in his new town, she thought. When she turned and noticed the bouquet of irises and lilies on the buffet server, she felt overwhelmed with good fortune.

She heard Gil clearing his throat and she turned around. "Surveying the ramparts of your hard-won castle, dearest?"

"Everything is just so…so…beyond what I even imagined, Gilbert. This is our home, now. Not Diana's, not Marilla's, not your father's. It's ours. And it's perfect."

"I'm so happy you like it, Anne. Are you hungry? Someone must have snuck in here this morning and stocked the icebox."

"Not only that, Gil, but they filled the canisters, these spice jars, brought flowers, and just now I saw these embroidered kitchen towels sitting here. I feel like I've lived here for years, and it's been two hours."

"It's a good home, Anne. And you didn't answer me when I asked if you were hungry," Gil responded.

"Are you hungry, my Gilliest of Gils?"

"Not really. More thirsty than anything. I'll have a large glass of lemonade and maybe some more bread."

"I'm not hungry, but I am thirsty. That fresh bread smell is intoxicating. I plan on making you good bread, with Marilla's special recipe, everyday if I can."

Gilbert brought her a glass of lemonade and a huge slice of bread for himself and said, "Mrs. Blythe, I simply can't wait."

Anne involuntarily yawned and Gilbert didn't miss it. "You, Mrs. Blythe, are exhausted. Come here, please. Gilbert put down the bread and wiped his hands on his napkin. He pulled her into his lap and held her closely.

"Anne," he whispered as he kissed the back of her neck, "I think we should prepare for bed. I know you are tired, and I am comfortable with simply falling asleep, and we can…we could…do…more at another time…tomorrow if you want. Does that sound fine?"

Anne let Gilbert kiss her neck for another moment and said, "Gil. I love you and I am very anxious to prepare for…to… prepare for bed. She pulled away so she could kiss him on his lips and they were so incredibly soft and ready for her. The more she kissed him, the more he kissed back. She stood up and reached for his hand and together they made their way up the staircase in their house of dreams. She would never walk up that staircase again as the same person. The next time, she thought, she would know what it was like to have been with a man. Her husband.

Gilbert had already put out their toothbrushes and the dentifrice powder and he quickly brushed his teeth and washed his face. He told Anne that he needed to check the fire downstairs, but Anne knew that he had already checked it. He was a dear man and he purposely was giving her time to prepare for their wedding bed.

Anne used the time to brush her teeth and wash her face as well, and then she brushed her hair in the mirror until she was happy with its shine. "Orange," she sighed. "Why not nut brown or dark sable or honey blonde?"

She reached into her smallest traveling bag, and found a small bottle of lavender water. She sprayed some on her hair; she knew that lavender was one of his favorites. She looked at herself in the mirror and wondered if she would look different in the morning. She chastised herself for being such a goose. Giving her hair one more brush and pinching her cheeks, she slipped on the pale peach nightdress that Diana had ordered her from Charlottetown. It was softer than anything she had ever owned, and she suddenly giggled, wondering what Marilla would think of "such frivolity." She shivered when she imagined Marilla watching her…in this gown…with Gilbert.

"STOP," she told herself harshly. "This is Gil. You are scandalously in love with him. This is a wonderful night, and it is supposed to happen. You want Gil. You want Gil to do it."

She closed the door to the small bathroom and walked softly to the bedroom. Gil wasn't in there. Not sure entirely what to do, Anne pulled the quilt down and patted the pillow. It was soft, and smelled like homemade soap. She sat in the bed and pulled the quilt over her.

Gil walked in softly. He must have stopped in the bathroom on his way upstairs; he was wearing his nightshirt now, and he smiled softly as he approached the bed. Leaving the nightstand lamp on, he crawled next to Anne and rolled to his side, facing her. "Come here, Anne" he murmured. He lightly traced her arm and kissed her softly at first and then more deeply. He brushed the tip of his tongue along her lower lip while he traced her arm. She placed her hand on his face and traced his jaw with her fair-skinned hand. He breathed in deeply and said, "Anne, you are my love."

Gilbert sniffed her hair and whispered, "Lavender?" Anne grinned and said, "I thought you might like it. You could imagine yourself with a kidnapped princess locked in a tower and guarded by dozens of angry Spaniards searching for their stores of amethyst lavender blooms."

Laughing out loud, he moved his hand from her arm to her ribs, resting it there lightly. He wanted to go slowly so she had time to tell him if she wanted to stop. He understood the mechanics of what needed to happen, but he knew they had hours if they needed them.

Feeling his arm on her side, she subtly moved closer to him. She continued to be amazed that after all of these years, she was sharing a marriage bed with Gilbert Blythe.

"Anne, darling, may I say something?"

"Well, if you dare say that you are sorry you have married me, I am going to break the nightstand lamp over your head," she breathed. He moved his mouth to hers and kissed her languorously.

"When we were talking on the beach yesterday, and you were talking about…tonight…you mentioned something that I'd like to talk over with you. I wasn't comfortable talking about it yesterday, but I think that now is a better time. May I?"

Anne put her hands on his chest, feeling how warm it was through his nightshirt. It felt so nice. "Gilbert, kindred spirits always find time to share their deepest thoughts."

He kissed her jaw and traveled his lips to her cheek. "Anne, if we continue with this tonight, you know there is a chance a child could come. I know that we both want children, but I wasn't sure if you wanted to start so early in our marriage. I could try to lower the chances of it happening."

"Gil, if a child comes soon, then I will be the happiest wife in the world. Would you be happy, though? Would you hate coming home to a wife as big as a house?"

Gil put both hands tenderly on her cheeks and said, "I would love to come home to a wife as big as a house, as long as you are the wife." His large hand drifted across her abdomen without saying a word. He kissed her again, and wrapped himself around her and placed both of his hands lower on her back then he ever had . Anne didn't say a word, but the love and trust written on her face said it all.

Anne was feeling so many feelings at once that she merely nodded. She was enjoying this with him. She was terrified of this. She wasn't exactly sure which feeling was the strongest at the moment.

Keeping his eyes glued to hers, he shifted his hand and he softly stroked her skin. He hoped his hand wasn't cold.

If Anne was embarrassed, her face didn't show it. Gilbert told her how beautiful she felt and how soft she was and how well she was doing and he continued to touch her where no one ever had. Looking at her again, he took her in both of his arms and kissed her shoulders and then her lips. She kissed him back with determination. He said in his quietest voice ever, "Anne, I'm going to do what I can to make the rest of this comfortable for you. Let me know if anything hurts. Let me know. Promise, Anne-girl?"

Anne nodded her head. Anne's face was a bit red, but she gave him a small smile and a quick, nervous nod. This was so new for her, but she wanted him to continue. She was afraid he would stop if he thought she was ill at ease.

Gil knew that this would feel foreign to her. He took to heart what he had read in the wee hours of last night.

She concealed her discomfort.

She kissed his neck and said, "I want to do this. I want you to do this."

He whispered into her ear, "Anne, I'm going to do this nice and slow. Ready?"

"Alright."

Anne took a breath and pulled him as close as she could with her hands so her tears remained private.

He whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Anne clung to him and told him, "I'm okay, Gil. It's okay. And while she tried to lock his head in place so he couldn't see the tears sliding down her cheeks, he unwrapped himself from her arms. He dearly wanted to see her face.

Seeing her tears, Gil said, "Anne, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. We can stop. I think we need to for now."

"There's no need to stop. I don't want you to."

"How bad is it, Anne. Tell me" Gilbert asked softly when he was finished..

"I'm fine. Feel free to hold me though," she murmured. She loved him. Any amount of pain was worth it for him. She had never loved anyone as much as she loved. Even if it always hurt, every time, for the rest of their lives, she would continue to be with him this way.

"I'm fine, Gil."

She yawned and her eyes drifted closed as she laid her hand on his shoulder. "Fall asleep, my angel, and I'll hold you until it's morning. I love you, Mrs. Blythe. Go ahead and sleep, alright?"

"I love you, too. You need to go to sleep," she answered drowsily.

When the sun was still hours away from making its appearance, Anne woke and needed to visit the restroom. "Stupid lemonade," she thought. As she stood up and felt a pull from the bottom of her thighs up to her chest. The burning feeling wasn't as acute, but there was definitely a sense of something unusual

She had been dozing steadily, when she became aware that Gilbert was awake. He seemed to be trying to kiss her cheek without waking her. She kept her eyes closed but smiled when his lips came close to her cheek again.

"I can see you are awake, oh lovely wife," he grinned.

"Yes, Dr. Blythe. I am happy, and awake and ready for a full day of marriage."

"How are you?" he asked.

"I'm fine. How are you?" she replied.

"I was hoping you were feeling well. I know that I hurt you last night," Gil continued.

"For the time being, I would very much like some breakfast. And then I would like to sit in my swing and look at my flowers and see what they look like in the early morning!"

"I can see that today will be filled with lots of activity. I don't have anything too urgent, except for driving into town to pick up two shipments that Mr. Daed is holding for me. What if we rested for just a bit more, it's still early, and ate some breakfast, and then went into town. There are probably some things that you would like to shop for."

"I would love that! Our first trip to town as an old married couple…I'll have to look extra nice for the townspeople who will be inspecting me!" Anne teased.

Part 2

Anne was buttering the rest of the neighbor's bread when Gilbert came down, dressed for a trip to town. She stood up to kiss his cheek and it was baby soft where he had expertly shaved. She handed him his tea and bread and eggs, and wiped out the pan in the sink while he sat down.

"I'm waiting for you. Why don't you put the pan down and come and eat while it's warm," he suggested.

"I'll be there in a moment. I wanted to take care of this pan while it was still warm," Anne answered. She put the white towel to the side of the sink and sat next to Gil and tasted the eggs. They tasted fine, but she wasn't really hungry. She was more excited about going into town with Gil. She ate about half and stood up to clear the table. Gil noticed that she only ate about three bites, but he didn't say anything. His guess was that she was still getting over the stress of the last week. He helped her towel dry the plates and forks and wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek. "Thanks for a lovely, warm breakfast. Our first married breakfast!" he murmured.

"You are very welcome. Tomorrow, I'll make sure you get some bacon. And, I was thinking of some things we need from the store. Will you have time to help me shop, or do you need to organize your office?"

He handed her her hat while he found his own. "I just have the two parcels at the post office, and then I wanted to put some things away, and then we can shop. After that, I thought we could have a fine meal in town."

Gil helped her into the car, and she answered, "We can go to a restaurant, or we can come back here and pack a picnic and go to the shore. Either sounds wonderful."

The trip into town took ten minutes and the packages from Mr. Daed were bulky. Gil managed to get them in the back seat and asked Mr. Daed how his back was feeling. "Well, Dr. Blythe, it feels fine as long as the weather doesn't change. It seems that it's partial to sun and no showers. I 'prreciate your askin'."

Gil's new office was clean and tidy and full of light and had a small reception room, but two large treatment rooms. Dr. Stewart, even though he was near retirement, had recently replaced the carpets and the furniture and painted; even the treatment tables were new. The first room housed a table for general examinations, but the other room looked to Anne as if it was more for procedures. The light above that table was so bright that Anne squinted when Gil showed it to her. Gil opened the stainless steel cabinet's glass doors with a key from his pocket and arranged the vials of injectables according to type and dosage. The boxes from Mr. Daed contained dozens more vials and several, amber, quart sized bottles. He opened the bottom cabinet drawer, and it had no glass window. He put some of the smallest vials in there and locked it. "Morphine and laudanum," Gil explained.

Gil put large containers of iodine in the back storage closet, and then returned to open the other box carefully. Inside it was a metal wrapped package that contained six, odd looking canisters. "This is ether, and it's very flammable. It has to be shipped in certain packaging. I don't anticipate using it very often, but I'm glad to have it."

He put four cylinders of ether in a similar metal cabinet in the store room, and locked it up. The remaining two were put back in the mailing container. "Anne," he started, "if it's okay with you, I'd like to take some supplies back to the house. Patients in a panic have been known to show up at a doctor's home needing emergency treatment, and I'd like to have some equipment with me at home. I thought we could keep them in the first floor bedroom, if that's alright with you. Just remember, no matches or candles in that room."

"How can I help you? Do you want me to help you put some things in the car?" she asked.

"Well, I'm thinking that, in addition to some ether, I'd like some sutures, dressings and bandages, and some drugs. Mainly, morphine…maybe some laudanum. In that case, can you get that blue box of syringes off of the shelf? Maybe some cotton ether cones and some surgical masks, while we're at it."

Gil packed another box full of small rectangular trays with lids, instruments that looked like scissors without sharp edges, and scalpels. Lastly, he put in three boxes that had "Guaranteed Gas Sterilized Surgical Gauze."

"Gilbert," Anne hesitated, "do you happen to have a hot water bottle?"

"Hot water bottle? I can check in the storage room. There may be one."

Gil returned with a light red, rubber hot water bottle. He put it on the top of the stack. "Are you going to tell me why you wanted a hot water bottle?" he asked.

"I, er, well, Marilla always kept one around for when, I…my…monthly time came, and I've always had one, and I seem to have lost it while I was at Diana's. Sometimes, they are helpful." Anne blushed. Gil smiled warmly.

They toted the boxes out to the car together and then Gil took two keys off of his key ring. "This, Anne, is a key to the office. This smaller key unlocks all of the locked cabinets. I want you to have them just in case." Anne took the keys and carefully placed them in her handbag.

Gilbert made sure his office was locked and suggested they drive to the small store at the end of the town's main street. It was a small store, but it was nicely supplied and he was sure that Anne would enjoy shopping there. She purchased ten pounds of flour, five of sugar, and strong pine cleaner. To that, she added some kitchen matches, some hand lotion that smelled like roses and some hand soap that smelled like mint, some bottles of cooking sage and thyme and dill and a small bottle of bluing for Gil's shirts. At the last moment, she had the clerk wrap up some fresh cheese. She laughed when she thought of the strange selection of items that would be carried in their car.

Instead of a fine lunch at a restaurant in town, they decided that they would take their carload of items home and then maybe have a picnic in their backyard. It didn't take long to empty the car, but Gil was particular about where he stored his medical supplies. He wanted them quickly accessible in an emergency, but he didn't want them too accessible. He also had to consider the best place for the ether and the morphine. The ether was packed in the special packaging. Half of the morphine went into Gil's bad, and half of it went into the top of a small chest of drawers in the downstairs bedroom. Anne laughingly referred to that spare bedroom as "The Hospital."

When everything was spic and span, she and Gilbert shut the door to "The Hospital" and Anne made some cheese sandwiches and cut up some nice pears. When the last crumbs were brushed away, they looked at each other and Anne suggested that they go upstairs and air the rooms out. It was her way of bringing the beauty outside into their home. She thought that their bedroom had the grandest view she could have imagined. Gil had chosen such a wonderful home.

She sat on the bed and wordlessly studied the magnificent tree framed by the window. Gil sat next to her and kissed her lips and thanked her for helping him with the supplies. "Of course, I would help you. What, did you think that I would watch you and NOT help?" Anne laughed out loud.

Gil held her close and hugged her. He kissed her and pulled her shoulders softly down onto their bed. "How are you feeling? After last night, how are you feeling?" He queried.

"I am absolutely, one hundred percent, without a doubt, perfect," she murmured.

"Oh, I know that. But doctor's wives die young, and I'm not going to bury you when I'm just now won you!" he replied.

"You haven't killed your doctor's wife, yet."

"Happy to hear it, Doctor's wife" and he held her hands tightly in hers.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 3

Anne and Gil woke up at about the same time and both of them were thrilled to see the beautiful tree's branches swaying back and forth. A good wind storm was always exciting.

After a quick breakfast, their new phone rang and Gil arranged to meet a patient at the office. Anne was sorry to see him go, but she felt better when he promised that he would be home as soon as possible. She kissed him when he finished tying his tie and she handed him his bag. It was heavier than it looked.

As he drove off, Anne decided to get a head start on the week's laundry. "It should be done quickly, with all of this wind," she thought.

She was lonely, but she was aware that they wouldn't be able to share every moment together. Still, she could look forward to his return.

After hanging out the sheets and shirts and petticoats, she dusted the windowsills and took some rugs outside to beat the dust out of them. She had considered taking a basket down and picking some fresh flowers for the kitchen table, but she was fairly tired.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, the fatigue was not improving. The logical reason was the stress of the wedding, but that had been three days ago, and with the exception of the wedding night, she had been getting a good deal of sleep. Marilla would say that she wasn't eating enough vegetables, if she had been alive, and Anne made a promise to herself to serve lots of salads and make vegetable soup often. She didn't want to sleep through her marriage!

The rugs were put back in their places inside the house, and the clothes wouldn't be dry for another hour or so. She would iron them then, but for right now, she would take a small rest so she could enjoy every second when Gil returned from his patient.

She slept so soundly during her nap that she didn't hear the telephone, even though Gil had let it ring twenty or thirty times. He imagined that she was walking on the beach or meeting the nearest neighbor, about a mile east of them.

He had telephoned to say that his appointment was going to go long, since whatever the patient was sick with had also spread to his wife and three children, including their two month old. Gil wanted Anne to know that he was driving out to the house to treat the others, and that she could expect him to be late.

Anne was still asleep upstairs when Gil returned hours later. He had never seen her nap during the day and he was surprised she was asleep. He gently nudged her shoulder and said, "Anne-girl, sleepy head? Are you going to wake up for me?"

She had been so thoroughly asleep that she was disoriented when she looked out their window and saw that the sun was starting to set.

"I'm so, so sorry. What time is it? I just meant to take a catnap! I haven't even started dinner," she shrieked with real embarrassment.

"It's no problem, Anne. You must have been tired, or you wouldn't have slept so long," he responded. "I am a huge proponent of naps, and I have been known to take many when I need them."

Gil turned to put his bag on the slipper chair and Anne stood up quickly to start dinner, and the room seemed unsteady all of a sudden. She sat down on the bed so she could take a few breaths. Next time, she wouldn't jump out of bed so fast.

"Anne, how hungry are you tonight?" Gil inquired softly. He was taking off his tie and coat, and looking out the large window.

"I don't know. What about you, Gil?"

"I think I would be fine with just a snack. Or, if you were in the mood for a larger meal, we could drive into town. The restaurants won't close for another hour. I don't want to be accused of starving my wife!"

Anne thought she should be hungry. She had slept through lunch, after all, but she truly just wanted to make a nice hearty snack for Gil, and then gather the laundry from outdoors and put it away. She would have time to iron it tomorrow. There wasn't even a small part of her that was hungry.

She stood up more carefully this time, and enjoyed Gil's hand around her waist as they descended their staircase. Usually, she loved it because she craved the physical closeness of her husband. This time, she appreciated it, because she was coming down with something, she was almost sure of that now, but she didn't know what.

The most important thing, she told herself, was to get over it fast, without Gil knowing. He'd react too strongly; she was sure of it.

She simply had a mix of nerves combined with a cold or something that was just starting. Marilla would have her drink lots of fluids and eat soup. That's what she would do.

Anne quickly made Gilbert a large plate of cheese, bread, butter, and browned potatoes and onions. While he started on that, she cut him a thick slab of the chocolate cake and poured him a glass of milk. Gilbert looked at her and said, "Come sit down, Anne, and eat yours."

"I will in a minute, Gil, but I am going to pull down the laundry first. I don't want to forget about it all night," she announced as she picked up the wicker basket and went out the kitchen door to the backyard.

The smell of the potatoes and onions cooking had increased her nausea a hundred fold. She had to get outside and breathe some fresh air.

By now, she was struggling against the urge to empty her stomach, but as she expected, Gil had followed her outside and was already pulling shirts and pillowcases off of the line.

"Gilbert Blythe, go inside. The neighbors are going to see you pulling laundry down and they will talk about me for years," Anne tried to shout with a smile.

"Considering the closest neighbors are a mile away, I think your reputation is safe for now. And I'm not a man who will eat dinner while his wife does chores."

Between the two of them, the load of fresh smelling bedclothes and garments were folded in their basket and brought into the house in record time. Gil pulled a kitchen chair away from the table and expected her to sit, but Anne went to the whitewashed kitchen cabinets and poured herself a glass of water first.

Anne held the fork in her hand and asked Gil about his patients and his ride out to their home.

"They are certainly very nice people, even though all of them have some healing to do over the next few days. Dysentery, I think, from the way it spread so quickly. The baby girl is beautiful and had a touch of croup, but I don't think we have to worry about her getting what the rest have. The main problem is that the mom is ill, and will be for a few days. I want to make sure the baby is able to get enough nutrition when she nurses."

Anne inhaled quietly, and said, "I'll pray that all of them recover quickly. Perhaps I can make a big pot of soup and bring them some tomorrow. They certainly have a lot of their plate right now." Anne hoped that Gil didn't see her casually moving her food around without eating it.

"Your soup would be appreciated, Anne, but let me deliver it when I check on them tomorrow. If it's not dysentery, and it's something air contagious, I don't want you anywhere near it," Gilbert explained.

Just then, the telephone rang and Gil stood up to answer it. Anne prayed that it would be a talkative person calling. As soon as he left the room, Anne grabbed her napkin and fled outside. She rounded the outside corner of their house and her stomach was relieved of its contents under a hydrangea. When she thought she was finished, she casually walked into the kitchen and splashed her face with cold water and dried it with a dishtowel.

Gil was talking with another physician about a surgical case, from what Anne could deduce, and she walked upstairs to the bathroom and brushed her teeth twice while they continued to confer by telephone.

As soon as Gil hung up, she came downstairs and began clearing the kitchen table of the remains of her meal. Dr. Blythe came in and replaced his napkin in his lap, and took his first bite of the chocolate layer cake. "This is so good, Anne. It's practically decadent. Come have a bite?" he urged.

"I snuck a bite earlier," she fibbed, "and you are right. It is delicious."

After Gil was done with dessert, he flipped through the day's post and opened a journal on thoracic surgery, and read for half an hour under the bright reading lamp. Anne sat near him on the couch and read a book of Elizabeth Barrett Browning poems.

When he was finished, Gil closed the journal and placed it on the table behind them. "I think it's time that I take my beautiful bride to bed and tuck her in. What say you, beautiful bride? Is that alright with you?"

"That sounds perfect to me." And she gave him a fast kiss on his cheek as she replaced her poetry book near her others on the bookshelf near the fireplace.

She brushed her teeth and face again, and hoped that she didn't have the beginnings of a fever. She didn't think she did, but concealing her developing cold from Gil was her top priority, and a fever might be hard to hide.

When Gil came to bed, he slid in next to Anne and wrapped his arms lovingly around her waist. "You are so beautiful. I am so lucky," he whispered.

Anne couldn't help rubbing his shoulders the way he liked and she considered kissing him on the lips, but she didn't want to spread whatever it was that she had picked up. Instead she placed her cheek next to his and tentatively caressed his backside with both of her hands through his nightshirt.

He responded by pulling himself even closer to her until he could feel her body pressed tightly to his. He breathed, "Anne, I want so much to be with you, but I want to wait a day or two. I don't want you to get too sore. We can tomorrow evening, alright?"

Anne just murmured. She just wanted to feel his heart beating against hers. He could make her feel better, even if he didn't know she was feeling ill.

Gil fell asleep holding Anne, and she was tempted to open the window. Their room was growing warmer by the second. She unwound herself from Gil's grip and, instead, wandered downstairs so she could catch the cool night air without causing Gilbert to chill…or to wake.

"If I do have a fever, I should drink some water," she thought. Concealing something like that from him would be hard enough under courting circumstances, but now that we share a bed, it could be impossible," Anne worried.

She felt more comfortable twenty minutes later and tiptoed up the stairs and crawled next to her beloved Gil.

As she stretched to pull the quilt up around her, she felt the oddest little twinge on her right side. She dismissed it as an after effect of their activities the previous evening, and thanked God for giving her such a kindred spirit to marry. She then asked God to please help her get over her little illness by tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 4

That night, Anne got up several times to drink water and cool herself downstairs. Once, she even stood in front of the open kitchen door. Her head was throbbing a bit, but the nausea seemed to have passed.

When Gil woke up that morning, he was surprised that Anne wasn't next to him. She had risen early and taken a bath and put on a cooler housedress, one made of lighter cotton than she had worn yesterday. It felt good to wash her hair and use the new soap purchased on their first shopping trip together.

Anne carefully pulled herself out of the tub and dried herself, pinned up her hair attractively, and smoothed hand lotion on her hands and arms. She wasn't sure what Gilbert's day was going to be like, and she wanted to use some of the eggs and bacon and give him a hearty start.

She was tending to the tea kettle when Gil strode into the kitchen. "Hello, Anne. You are up mighty early today," he announced.

"I felt like getting a head start on today's wonders, thank you very much. My first project was impressing you with my breakfast skills. After that, I thought I would start that pot of soup. What was the family's name you visited yesterday?" Anne wondered.

"They are the Maguires. I'm sure they will appreciate it. They haven't been in Glen Saint Mary that long; probably a couple of months. I'm planning on checking in on them this morning. And, I forgot to tell you that I am meeting a doctor from Stuartton at noon. He was the one who called me last night. He is an ophthalmologist that I met when I was in Halifax. It turns out that his wife is expecting twins this month and he wanted to meet and talk. They've had some problems in the past. Both of them are having some anxiety about the birth."

"So, I'd better get working on this soup so you can get out the door," Anne stated as she washed her hands and began chopping vegetables.

She felt much better wearing lighter clothing. Deciding that all of her symptoms were merely due to her approaching time of the month, she wasn't as worried as she was last night when she wondered if she was truly sick. While she had never had these symptoms before with her cycles, she wanted that to be the cause, and so it had to be.

The soup was done in about an hour, and Anne carefully packed it in an earthenware covered soup pot. She was proud that the rolls she had made turned out well, and included a dozen of those, along with a note expressing her hope that all of the Maguires would be feeling better soon.

She carried the meal out to the car and kissed Gilbert's cheeks and his neck. She hated when he was gone all day, but she was adult enough to expect that it was a part of their life. At the last moment, she reached up and kissed his lips, savoring their softness and eagerness.

He promised that he would try to call her and let her know how his day was going and when to expect him. She told him that she would try to answer the telephone if she wasn't too absorbed in her latest books borrowed from the library two towns over.

Gil called about four o'clock and said that he was on his way home. Anne was waiting in the front room for him to walk in. She missed him that much.

They shared the rest of the soup and rolls and lemonade she had made with the lemons from their own tree in the back. They were falling into a habit of reading after dinner; he from his medical journals, she from her poetry books.

Gil had been watching the weather through the curtains. Yesterday's wind had turned into more than that. Rain clouds were threatening thunderstorms all over the island. That was expected for late autumn, but exciting at the same time. Both of them shared a love of dramatic weather. Being home together in bad weather was a treat; driving around in it was much less of one.

He escorted her upstairs and after they had finished their night routines, he joined her in their bed. She moved closer to him and brushed away a strand of hair that was almost in his eyes. He thanked her by kissing her lips.

He put his lips close to her ear, and said, "You could still be sore and this will be careful and slow."

She answered him by embracing him tightly to her chest and feeling his dark curls that framed his forehead. Even through her nightshirt, his cool body was comforting to hers. Even after she noticed that he was cooler than she was, Anne refused to admit that she could have a fever. She was just, she thought, a new bride preparing for her husband.

Even though she was a writer, she found it difficult to find appropriate words to describe his chest. It was strong and yielding, powerful and gentle…she felt wonderful being wrapped up in it. She knew she was loved. She knew he was good and safe and kind. And they could be like this for the rest of their lives.

He lifted his head up, rested on one elbow and laid the other hand on her abdomen. "Anne, you feel warmer than usual. Are you warm?"

"Yes, Gilbert," she answered, "Just because you were holding me just now."

"You didn't feel like this when we were together earlier," he retorted.

"I think I was a bit nervous before maybe," she responded with a smile.

"Anne, I need to know. Is this okay?" he begged to know.

"So far, so good, my Gilbert. Is there something I should be doing to help you? Do you want me to move or…something?" Anne asked in a soft, tiny voice.

"You're doing everything perfectly. All I want you to do is to share what you're feeling. It's the only way I'll know," he spoke softly.

He embraced her and told her how wonderfully she was doing and how cherished she was. When they were finished, he held her tightly against him and he rubbed her back.

She was feeling especially warm now, and she moved slightly away from him before he became silly again about her skin temperature. She did not want him worrying over what was, no doubt, symptoms arising from her monthly time next week.

Gil kissed her softly again on her lips he reached for her hand to hold. She drank more water and held his hand as she silently said her prayers. "Dear Lord, please let me feel better tomorrow," she asked.


	4. Chapter 4

Part 5

Anne fell asleep holding Gilbert's hand and thought about drinking more water to cool herself throughout the night, but when the glass was empty, she chose being thirsty rather than walking to the kitchen to get more water. She really, really didn't feel well.

Gil was sleeping, and from what she could tell, it was a deep sleep. He deserved it. He had spent a good part of his day driving from the Maguire's home to another family's home, where most of them likely had the same illness. Then he met the ophthalmologist, Dr. Majors, and his wife, and discussed their upcoming birth of twins. After that, Dr. Stewart had invited him over to have a quick cup of tea and chat about how Gilbert's first days were going.

When the room became so warm she couldn't be comfortable anymore, she sat up slowly to keep her growing headache in check, and crept downstairs for some fresh air and a glass of water. Downstairs was always cooler, and it was absolutely cooler with the kitchen door open.

She wanted to go back up and join her husband; even holding his hand made her feel better, but she didn't want him to wake up if she opened the big window in their room. "If I can get through tonight," she thought to herself, "this will run its course soon, and I'll feel good as new."

She rested for a bit on the sofa, but she couldn't find a comfortable position. She felt restless, and the combination of growing nausea and headache and heat was making her miserable.

When she thought Gil would be waking up shortly, she ran some cool water in the tub and tried to wash away some of the heat with the door closed and she crept into their bedroom and lie down on top of the covers.

Gil began stirring about twenty minutes later and Anne kissed his cheek and walked down the stairs, arm and arm with him.

He was reading the newspaper when the phone rang and he agreed to meet Dr. Stewart at the office to go over charts belonging to some acutely ill patients. Dr. Stewart reminded Anne of Gil in several ways, especially his devotion to providing the very best care for patients.

"Besides Dr. Stewart, Gil, what does your day look like," she asked while pouring him his tea.

"It might be a long day. Dr. Major's wife seems very close to the end of her confinement, and I'm not sure which of them is the most nervous. The weather looks like it might be bad again, and that almost always ensures a busy night."

"Do you want me to pack you food for lunch and dinner in case you are out for an extended time?" Anne offered.

"I don't think I'll need it. I can usually find something to keep me going, and I most likely will get to see you right on time. Plus, most of the babies I deliver wake me up about 2:30 in the morning. I'm beginning to think it's a conspiracy!" he laughed.

Anne thought it was funny, too. She was awfully proud of him. He was a noble soul.

"What time are you meeting Dr. Stewart, Gil?" she asked.

"In about forty minutes. I should finish this cup and head out the door. Promptness is Dr. Stewart's hallmark and I don't want him thinking I'm a shirker!" He announced as he got up to leave the room.

As much as she loved him, she was anxious for him to leave. She wanted to lie down and sleep through whatever was bothering her. She had felt under the weather for days, and she surely must be at the tail end of whatever it was. All she had to do was sleep it off.

She kissed him with all of the artificial energy she could find, and walked straight upstairs to sleep.

It was the furious sound of the wind that woke her hours later. Anne made sure that the bedroom window was well-latched and cringed a second later when she felt a nagging pinch in her side. It almost felt like her dress was rubbing too tightly against her skin, but her housedress was actually loose since her appetite had changed so much over the past days.

She looked at the clock and she couldn't believe that she had slept until three pm! Seven hours!

She wanted to go downstairs to see if those windows were all latched, and after taking three or four steps, the pinch in her side had grown to a stab. Before going downstairs, she opted to visit the restroom and see if a visit would make this pain disappear. That certainly didn't help; now she felt cold, clammy and chilled in addition to sore, nauseated, and fatigued.

Holding her side as she brought herself downstairs, she realized that she truly wanted Gil to come home soon. Whatever had been making her feel ill over the past days was starting to scare her.

Yes, she had been sick before. She had a normal childhood full of sore throats and colds and stomach flu, but this…this was more.

For a split second, she wondered if God was punishing her for concealing her symptoms from Gil.

She hadn't meant to deceive him out of treachery; she simply didn't want him to overreact to something minor.

Once downstairs, she closed the one window that was open and put the tea kettle on the stove. She wasn't hungry at all, in fact, she was the opposite of hungry, but she thought that maybe a cracker and some tea could settle her stomach. When the tea was ready, she brought her cup into the front room and wrapped an afghan around her.

"Someday," she said out loud, "Gil is going to laugh when he tells this story." She wrapped herself tighter in the crocheted throw and tried to control the start of shivers.

By her best guess, Gil could come home any minute. He hadn't called, and that was a good sign. That must mean that he was expecting to return home on schedule. Any minute, he was going to walk through that door, and she would announce that she was sick, and he would simply make her feel better. He would know right away what was wrong and she'd be well by tomorrow. She knew it.

* * *

"Gil, did you want to telephone home again?" Dr. Majors asked when he handed Gil a cup of hot coffee. "Your wife might be worried, with the thunderstorms starting and not hearing from you."

"I'll try again right now, Alexander. I'm surprised she's not answering. She finds lots of errands to run during the day, but she should be home by now. It's after seven-thirty," Gil responded as he looked out the window of the Majors' home, studying the lightning that was flashing through the sky.

"Gil, I wouldn't worry too much. She probably is writing or reading with a door closed and simply can't hear the phone. Maybe she's visiting the neighbors?" comforted Dr. Stewart.

Another cry from behind the closed bedroom door brought all three doctors back into the room where Mrs. Majors had just started to feel her first bone-shaking contraction.

Gil was glad that Dr. Stewart had accompanied him to the Majors' for the birth of the twins. Dr. Stewart actually had delivered Mrs. Majors twenty four years ago. Dr. Majors himself was usually cool and calm, but he was simply a worried father, like any other, on this night.

Dr. Blythe was the source of serenity and reason and Dr. Stewart was half physician mentor and half pseudo grandpa to be. He had seen Mrs. Majors through a childhood of illness and injuries and he was honored that she allowed him to tend to her.

For the rest of the night, Gil asked Dr. Majors or their housekeeper to continue calling Anne on the phone and he was beginning to feel panic rise in him when she never answered.

It wasn't until three thirty in the morning, when Elizabeth Marie Majors and Caroline Grace Majors were born, healthy and screaming, that Gilbert felt free to try calling himself.

"Alexander, I'd like to give you some aftercare reminders for your wife. She is stable, as you know, and I know she is in good hands with you, but here is a list of my instructions for the next twenty four hours. If you feel comfortable with the nurse attending to your wife and babies, I would like to head home. I plan on returning soon to check on everyone."

"Gil, you have my gratitude forever. I wouldn't have been able to make it through this without you and Dr. Stewart. Some physician I am!" Dr. Majors muttered.

"Alexander, twins can be scary, and I'm sure that I would be in your equally capable hands in the event of an ophthalmologic emergency. You are a fine physician and I'm thrilled that I could be the first to meet your beautiful daughters. Do you mind if I try your telephone one more time? This is really unusual for Anne not to answer," Gil said.

"Absolutely, Gil. And try not to worry. There's got to be a logical explanation for why the call isn't being answered. For all we know, the wind could have snapped the lines. She's probably just fallen asleep," Dr. Majors offered.

* * *

Anne's dress was sopping wet with perspiration and her hair hung limply across her damp face as she lay on the front room sofa. Drinking tea had done nothing but cause vomiting and that wasn't even her biggest concern right now.

The pain across her side had gradually grown to one that took her breath away. Any slight movement of her body caused her to scream inside the empty house. The screaming did no good; the house was empty and dark. She didn't have the strength to move, and if she did move, the pain was blinding.

She had imagined, when she was younger, what it might feel like to die a violent death, say stabbing or gunshot. Nothing in her imagination compared to this reality blazing from her side. Just when she thought it could be no worse, it became worse.

She had tried several times to answer the phone, but each time the pain frightened her so much that she was afraid to experience more of it.

Anne was afraid that the pain was trying to warn her away from movement that could kill her. More than once, she had wondered if she was dying. Would Gil come home and find her dead? Would he ever forgive her for keeping the beginnings of this illness from him?

Her head felt as if her brain itself was bouncing from side to side as she attempted even tiny changes in position She was burning up one moment and freezing in her wet dress the next.

When the wedding clock in the front room struck three thirty am, she convinced herself to try to answer the phone, the next time it rang, regardless of the how it felt.

If she could crawl with small enough movements to the telephone table, maybe the caller would stay on the line long enough for her to answer. How long would they let it ring?

The sound of the ringing phone frightened and heartened her. She crawled to it. Every vibration that came from her movement made her feel that she was crawling closer to her final moments. If that was true, if she was going to die from this, there was no reason to stop crawling.

When she had only inches to go, she shook the table hard so that the telephone tumbled off, onto the floor. Inside her mind, she knew that only Gil would call at that hour.

"Gil!" she shrieked hoarsely. "Gil, please help me. Please come home," she repeated over and over.

Moving to the phone had cost her all of her energy. There was nothing left for her to do. Nothing could help her now. Except for Gil. Maybe he could get home in time.

The room was already dark, but after borrowing every ounce of energy she had to crawl to the telephone, the room grew much darker. She welcomed the loss of consciousness.

* * *

"ANNE! ANNE! What's wrong? What's happened?" shouted Gil into the phone. Dr. Majors and Dr. Stewart came as quickly as they heard Dr. Blythe shouting.

"Gil, what's happened? Did Anne answer?" questioned Dr. Stewart.

"Yes, she answered, but she didn't even sound recognizable and all she could say was 'Please help me and come home!'"

Gil rushed to the foyer of the Majors' home and threw on his coat and closed his bag as he ran to the car.

"Gil, wait a moment. I'm coming with you. Let me drive," shouted Dr. Stewart over the roar of the wind and rain.

"Alex," shouted Dr. Stewart, "please call the constable nearest Glen Saint Mary and tell them there is an emergency at Dr. Blythe's home. They may arrive before we can, Gil."

"We have to hurry! I'm driving. It's at least thirty minutes back to our home. My Anne, my darling Anne, what has happened to you?" Gil cried, mostly to himself.

In the back of his mind, the most frightening words he had ever heard came creeping back to haunt his soul, "Doctors' wives die young."

Gil drove as quickly as he dare on such a rainy, stormy night. Hail was starting to form. Both men in the car could hear the distant crackling of lightning hitting the oldest, tallest trees on the island.

Dr. Blythe was going over and over terrifying scenarios in his head. What could have happened to Anne? Was she bleeding to death after last night? Had someone broken into their home looking for drugs? That had happened to a doctor in Halifax, he remembered. Did she fall and hit her head?

"WHAT HAD HAPPENED WHILE HE WAS GONE?" he asked himself over and over and over.

When they were fifteen minutes away from home, Gil slammed on the brakes just as an ancient poplar tree plummeted across the road in front of them. The car started to fishtail as he braked, but Gil was a very capable driver and he stopped the skid. The car was unharmed, and so were its occupants.

"Damn it," Gil cursed. He had never said a word like that in his life.

Dr. Blythe started to try to maneuver around the massive tree trunk, but Dr. Stewart put his hands on the steering wheel, and said softly, but very clearly, "Gil, we can't get around this tree safely. There is so much water now on either side of us that we will get caught in the mud, regardless. We have to turn around and take the east road back to your house."

"That will be another thirty minutes! We're so close now," Gil shouted.

"Gil, Anne is waiting for you, and she wants you home in one piece. She needs you. Turn the car around. There is no other choice," Dr. Stewart said in a father's comforting voice.

Gil backed up as best he could. He knew Dr. Stewart was right. The rain was quickly turning into hail, now, but he managed to turn the car around and head to the east road.

He was driving faster than he ever had, while Dr. Stewart kept an eye out for any lightning that could send a tree or one of its branches down in front of them. As he drove, Gil searched his mind for any ideas as to what could have befallen Anne.

Within twenty minutes, they began to see the outlines of dark houses, only briefly illuminated by the wild storm, or the moon, as clouds moved away from it. Even though it was the middle of the night, many of the houses had lights or lanterns burning inside.

Five minutes later, Gil could see his own home, completely dark in the distance. He wanted to see a light from inside. Somehow, seeing a light in his house was a sign that Anne was okay. All he saw was darkness. There were no signs of activity from any windows of the house.

He steered the car sloppily to the front driveway and grabbed his bag and almost tore the screen door off as he opened it.

"Anne! I'm here! Anne?" he yelled.

He started to run upstairs to look for Anne as he shouted to Dr. Stewart, "The light switch is next to the door. If the electicity's out, candles and matches are on the fireplace ledge."

"Gil, she's here. By the phone," Dr. Stewart shouted back.

Anne was lying next to the turned over telephone table. Gil threw off his wet coat and didn't care where it landed. Dr. Stewart had lost no time in turning on as many lights as he could find.

Gil's eyes filled with horror as he beheld Anne's limp, wet body curled up with her legs drawn to her chest. Dr. Stewart placed his fingers on her clammy forehead as Gil listened to her heart with the stethoscope from his bag.

"Gil, she's burning up."

"Anne, it's Gil. Everything's going to be okay. I'm here and Dr. Stewart is here. Anne, can you hear me? It's Gil. I need you to talk to me, Anne," Gil frantically spoke to her as he lowered his head to hers.

Anne didn't know if she was really hearing someone's voice or if it was a cruel joke being played on her. "Why doesn't Gil come and help her?" she wondered silently. "I've been good to him. Why won't he come and help me? Where is Diana? I would do anything to help her, and she won't come. Please come and help me, Diana. I need help. I need Gil. Go get Gil! He could help me if he was here. I'm so sick. Why won't people help me? Why won't they come? Why doesn't Marilla come?" Anne said to herself from the blackness over and over.

The other voice kept getting louder and louder. She wanted to tell it to be quiet because she was so sick.

"Anne, this is Gil. I'm home and I'm going to help you. Dr. Stewart is here and we are going to make you feel better, but tell me what is wrong. You have to tell me, Anne. You have to."

Someone was brushing cold, wet hair off of her face, and that felt nice. She wished someone could make it cooler…no, maybe they could make it warmer. She didn't know if she was miserably hot of miserably cold. It kept changing.

Anne started to stir a bit when the voice kept asking her to talk. She was afraid to talk; it might hurt too much to speak out loud.

"Anne, that's a girl. It's Gil. I'm going to help you," Gil said softly.

"Gil?" was all Anne could say.

"Yes. Tell me where it hurts. Tell me right now, alright?"

"Gil. Gil, I'm sick. I'm really sick, Gil," Anne struggled to get out.

"Anne, do you hurt somewhere?" Gil questioned her in his panic.

"Side."

"Your side hurts you?" Gil prodded.

"Side. Head. Mostly side," she continued.

"I need you to show me where you hurt, okay. Move your hand to where it hurts," Gil ordered.

Anne was so tired she didn't want to answer. She wanted Gil to let her go back to sleep. She'd be okay now that he was finally home. Someone was tapping her shoulder. She wished the tapping would stop. Didn't they know she was sick?" Anne thought to herself.

"Anne, open your eyes. Open your eyes and look at me. Good girl," Gil said. "Now show me with your hand where you hurt. Right now, okay?"

Anne looked at him with blurry vision. The lights were so bright. She squinted them out.

"Show me, Anne. You have to," Gil was starting to plead with her.

"Here," she said simply as she pointed to her lower right side.

Dr. Stewart said, "It could be a torsed ovarian cyst, or a ruptured one. Or an appendix."

Gil nodded his head, while lighting flashed outside the large windows.

"Anne, are you listening? I need you to tell me if you've had any nausea or vomiting over the past few days. Have you been throwing up?"

Anne started to speak, "I threw up a couple of times under the hydrangeas. I'm sorry."

Gil looked at Dr. Stewart quickly.

"Anne, how long have you felt sick? Did it start just today?" Gil fired off.

"Few days, a week, before the wedding" was all Anne felt like speaking. She really just wanted to sleep now that Gil was home.

Gil closed his eyes for a second. "Anne, I have to feel your abdomen."

As he tried to uncurl her from her position on her side, her eyes opened widely and she cried out in pain. "Stop!. Please, don't! I'll do anything, but please don't move me! Stop!"

Gil looked as if his heart was going to break, but he quickly returned to what he knew he had to do. He pressed carefully on all four quadrants of her abdomen, saving the lower right for the very last. As he lightly pushed down over her appendix, she tried to control herself, but an agonized scream flew from her lips.

"It's definitely consistent with appendicitis, but she could have a torsed cyst, or even a twisted diverticulae. It could be anything," he thought out loud.

"Gil, you are going to have to make a decision, as I see it. The nearest hospital is now sixty minutes away, and we could run into more road closures as the storm continues. This island is known for roads closing during storms like this," the older doctor reasoned as he placed a blood pressure cuff around Anne's arm that wasn't being held by Gil.

Gil said, "We don't know acute this is. If it is her appendix, it could burst on the way. Peritonitis, by morning, it could…that could," Gil said emotionless.

It didn't need to be said. Both doctors knew it. As if to punctuate their conversation, a nearby tree groaned with the wind gusts that were increasing in strength.

"You have to make a choice, Gil. I can't see any other options. We drive her to the hospital, or we drive her to the office. But, Gil, you must decide presently. You are the surgeon, here."

"I…I…I have a good setup here, but it would take almost as long to sterilize and prepare here, as it would to drive her to the office where I have more supplies," Gil responded.

"That's true, the office would be better, but we should consider the danger of the roads into town being blocked. It's bad out there tonight. If the time ends up the same for the office and here, we should avoid being out in the storm if it can be avoided," said his mentor.

Gil placed his hands on Anne's overheated face. "Anne" he whispered, "I am going to be very careful and pick you up. The most important thing you can do is to relax and let Dr. Stewart and me help you. Just relax and breathe," he instructed softly as he carried her to the couch. Tears rolled down her hot face as he moved her.

Dr. Stewart stayed with her, monitoring her breathing and pulse rate, while a thermometer rested under her tongue. Anne could sense more of what was happening, and she felt oblivious to most of it, as long as Gil was home. That's all she cared about.

Gil was quickly bringing as many lamps as he could find into the kitchen and had set a huge stock pot to boil on the stove. He practically ran to the spare bedroom and made two trips into the kitchen with the large boxes from his office. The only items he left in the bedroom were the containers of ether.

He scrubbed the kitchen table with the strongest antiseptic he had, and then he scrubbed it again. He followed that with scrubbing the counter where he would set up the majority of his supplies.

He sorted through instruments that needed sterilization and the rectangular steel trays and lids, sterile gauze, dressings, and syringes. Once the instruments were as sterile as he could make them, he turned off the stove and brought the ether canisters into the kitchen.

The ether and ether cones were set up near the end of the table where he would place Anne's head. He didn't have gas sterilized linens, but he could cover most of her with freshly laundered sheets, as long as they didn't contaminate the large surgical field he would create. Lastly, he filled a syringe with morphine sulfate and placed it near the ether. As soon as she was roused from the ether, he planned on giving her the largest dose with which he felt comfortable.

He quickly put on a clean shirt from the laundry basket and rolled the shirt sleeves up. The shirt he had been wearing was thrown into the front room, far away from the kitchen. He tied a clean cotton mask on his face, and then he fastidiously scrubbed his hands. He called for Dr. Stewart to bring Anne into the kitchen. Gil could hear her moans as her body was jostled from the couch.

He wanted to be the one to pick her up and carry her, but he had to keep as clean as he could and make whatever had sickened her go away.

Dr. Stewart gingerly laid her upon the table, tied on a mask Gil left out for him, and walked to the sink to scrub his hands. Anne was confused and disoriented by the harsh lights flooding her eyes.

"Gil! It hurts! Please make it stop. Where are you?" she cried.

She tried to seek out his hand, but he held them safely away from her reaching arms. He leaned into her as closely as he could without risking her touching his scrubbed hands. "Anne, I'm going to help you, and I want you to relax and when you wake up, you will feel so much better. I promise. You'll be better really soon," Dr. Blythe said in his most reassuring, soft voice.

"Could you take one of those hand towels and lay it across her eyes?" Gil asked. "She doesn't like bright light in her eyes."

"Sure, Gil," answered Dr. Stewart.

Anne had started writhing again, and Gil nodded to Dr. Stewart to start dropping ether into the cone that he held over Anne's nose as he, himself, washed a twelve inch rectangle of Anne's abdomen with iodine solution.

Gil looked at Dr. Stewart and waited for the signal from him to start. "Did you drop a full 11 milliliters?" Gil questioned.

"Yes, Gil. Her pulse is much stronger than before and her blood pressure is fine."

As Gil picked up a scalpel, he realized that he never, ever, thought he would end his day doing this in his kitchen.

His incision was straight and clean and he reached for gauze to soak up as much blood as he could with one hand. An assisting surgeon would be doing this next to him in a hospital, he thought.

He carefully spread the muscle fascia out of the way with sterile scissors, and located her appendix rapidly. He gasped when he saw the understandable source of Anne's illness. It was obvious to him that it could easily have ruptured during the car trip to the hospital.

He clamped the appendix off and set another clamp next to it. He sutured between both clamps and snipped the appendix out quickly.

"She's still under completely?" Gil inquired of Dr. Stewart who was listening to Anne's heart with his own stethoscope.

"Yes, Gil. Heart rate is steady. Respiration is good. No signs of muscle contractions. She's comfortable," he answered.

Gil smiled slightly when he heard this, and used more sterile gauze to wipe more blood out of the site. He checked the quality of his sutures between the clamps and slowly released the first one. The stitches held. Then he released the second clamp; those stitches held tight as well.

"Let me count these pads, and then I'll close. I counted twelve, and there are twelve in the basin," he announced. "It will take me three minutes to close, and you can probably drop four more of ether."

"She looks really good, Gil. Color's better. No tachycardia. I think you made a good call on this one. If I was a betting man, I would say she will be just fine," Dr. Stewart announced.

Gil closed the muscle layer first with larger stitches, and then used fine sutures for the skin layer. He swabbed more iodine over the wound, and dressed and bandaged it.

Once he was done, and the incision was protected, he removed his mask and gently kissed her forehead. He quickly turned to the sink to rinse his hands, and then he reached for the alcohol and gauze to clean the inside of her elbow. He would make sure she was coming out of the anesthesia, and then make her comfortable as fast as he could.

Dr. Stewart took the ether cone outside and dropped it on the ground and turned to see Gil speaking softly to Anne to stimulate her return to active consciousness.

"Anne, can you hear me? If you can hear me, squeeze my hand," he whispered.

As soon as he felt her squeeze back, he tied a tourniquet above her elbow. He said, "Everything's going to be all better. Just relax. I'll see you in the morning."

He flicked the best vein he could with his finger, and stuck it with the needle. He pushed the plunger slowly as he said a quick prayer for his Anne.

"


	5. Chapter 5

Part 6

Dr. Stewart came in and saw Gil withdraw the syringe from Anne's arm and set it in the dirty instrument tray and then put the stethoscope back to her chest.

The older doctor said, "Gil, I'm going to take care of these instruments back at the office in the morning. I put the ether containers on the spare bed and shut the door. She still looks really good to me. How does she sound?"

"She's stable," he whispered, "I just have no idea why she didn't tell me she was sick. Why wouldn't she tell me? I'm her husband!"

"Gil, I'm guessing that she had no idea that she was really that sick. And she cares so much for you that she didn't want to bother you with something she thought was nothing. Christine has done the same thing; she's come to me asking for help when she's been sick for two weeks. I think strong people like Anne try to will things away, and this time she couldn't. Let me watch her while you sleep for an hour, and then we'll switch. You do trust me, don't you?" he added with a smile.

"Of course, I do," replied Gilbert in a voice that sounded like it belonged to someone a thousand years old. "I'll stay here, though. Could you go in the spare room again and bring me the white blanket from the closet? And the bed pillows? This table is not comfortable. Her back will be stiff. I don't want to move her now, though."

"Yes, I'd be happy to, son," Dr. Stewart answered.

When he returned, Gil carefully put one pillow under his wife's knees and the softer one under her head. She didn't stir

"I have a suggestion, Gil. I will take your emergencies and calls over the next few days while Anne is recuperating. If there is something surgical that arises, I can stabilize and treat, and then refer to the hospital service or consult with you. Consider it my wedding present to you and Anne. I won't take no for an answer," he asserted.

Gil stood up, and kept one hand on Anne's arm, and bent down to hug his colleague with his free arm. "Thank you for that. She…she is my life, now."

Dr. Stewart nodded knowingly and shook down the thermometer he had soaked in rubbing alcohol. He placed it in position under Anne's tongue and brushed more wet hair away from her forehead. "At the office, I have a stretcher board that I can bring and we can move her to the downstairs bedroom when you think she's ready. Right now, I will sit here while you rest. I'm old enough to be your father, and I would hate to have to pull rank on you."

Dr. Blythe was exhausted, but couldn't bring himself to leave Anne. The closest he got to Dr. Stewart's instructions was to rest his head on one arm while he held Anne's hand with the other.

Writing some notes on a notepad, Dr. Stewart recorded Anne's temperature, pulse rate and blood pressure. "What a night…what a long night," he said to himself.

* * *

Anne began twitching her hand, held carefully in Gil's, about three hours later.

Gil moved his face close to hers and said softly, "Anne, it's me. How are you? How much pain are you in?"

"Mmm, I don't…what? What's goin' on? Huh?" she stuttered.

"It's Gil, and you've been sick. How much pain are you in right now?"

"It hurts, but it hurts better," she mumbled. "Where's our room? Why are we here, I mean… there… we are there…here…why?"

She wasn't making sense, but she was speaking, and he was happy to hear her voice, weak as it was. "Anne, you were sick and I came home and I helped you feel better. Does it hurt?"

"Yes. Here," she murmured as she pointed to her side. "What did you do?" she whispered.

He was washing her other elbow with more rubbing alcohol while he spoke, "I came home and you needed your appendix out. You'd been sick. I'm giving you something for pain. Just fall asleep and I'll be here when you wake up again."

"Are you mad…at me…mad?" she tried to say.

"I love you, and no, I'm not mad."

She blinked when she felt the needle prick her arm and within seconds, she was breathing more deeply, on her way to sleep. Gilbert wrote the time and dose on what was quickly becoming a medical chart similar to those he deciphered at the hospital. Hearing her speak felt like a hundred pound sack of sand being removed from his shoulders.

He was still worried about infection and pneumonia, but for right now, her temperature was only slightly elevated, and that was expected after surgery. He'd take it again in half an hour, but she was doing well.

Dr. Majors had heard over the phone from Dr. Stewart what had happened with Anne when he called to check on Mrs. Majors and the babies.

Dr. Majors was aghast! He said, "When my brother comes by today, I'm going to check on Gil and Anne. My brother is a physician and I can get out for a few hours."

* * *

When the stretcher arrived with Dr. Stewart, the two doctors covered it carefully with a soft blanket and very slowly transferred Anne onto it, making sure that she remained motionless. The morphine was doing its job and the move was more comfortable for her because of it.

Gil was hoping she would wake up soon so he could pipette a few drops of water into her mouth. She shouldn't drink much, but she did need some liquid. Her skin was showing signs of dehydration.

She was much less foggy the next time she awoke. Her grammar was still shaky, but it was easier for her to focus on Gil's face.

"We moved you into the spare room. Is the pain better or worse than last time?"

"Same, I think…but I don't want to sleep," she whispered.

"Well, the surgeon says you get to sleep," he smiled and kissed her cheek.

"Wait a minute…what time is it?" she pushed.

"Almost eight-thirty in the morning," he answered.

"Huh," she mouthed.

"Goodnight, Anne," Gil whispered. He lay down next to her when he finished giving her the narcotic and recording it on the notepad. He watched each breath she took.


	6. Chapter 6

Part 7

Four hours later, Anne awoke again from her daze and blinked rapidly, as if she was trying to focus on something that was continually moving around the room.

She started to lift her head four or five inches from the bed, and Gil gently directed her head back to comfort of the pillow. "Hello, Anne. You look a little bit more awake," Gil spoke softly.

"What time is it?" she questioned.

"It's about one in the afternoon."

Anne started to lift her head again, and Dr. Blythe said, "Not so fast, Miss Anne. You are staying put. My orders."

"I'm thirsty a little bit. Can I have some water?" she whispered.

"I was just going to give you some, but it has to little sips for now. I know you're thirsty, but just little sips, every ten minutes."

For a moment, she looked like she might fall asleep again, and then she opened her eyes and said, "Can I have some water?"

Gil nodded his head and had a touch of a smile on his face when she asked him again, realizing that she probably didn't remember that they had just discussed water.

He held her head with one hand, and a spoon of cool water with the other, and he adeptly tilted it into her mouth. When she was able to swallow that, he gave her another one.

"Can I have more?" she whispered hoarsely. "I'm so thirsty. What time is it?"

"It's about one o'clock in the afternoon," he repeated patiently.

"I was sick. And it was raining," she yawned again and lifted her right hand to rub her nose. "My nose itches."

"That might be from the morphine," he answered.

"I feel like…better. I remember being sick. You were with me. Someone else, too," she yawned.

"Dr. Stewart. I want you to rest for a few minutes and then you can have some more water. How does your side feel, by the way?"

"There's….something on it. I can feel something stuck to it," Anne replied while she scratched her nose.

"Have some more water," he said, "and that puffy thing is a bandage I'm going to change in a few hours. You've talked enough for now. Why don't you close your eyes for a few minutes?" he said with his face close to hers. He kissed her forehead and rubbed the arm closest to him. "I love you."

She opened her eyes almost as soon as she closed them. "Gil?"

"Yes, Anne," he responded while he shook his head at her, half amazed and half frustrated.

"Do you want some bacon later on?" she whispered.

Dr. Blythe didn't want to laugh out loud at his wife, but clearly, her thoughts were slightly jumbled. "No, Anne, I don't want bacon or anything else, except to see my dear, sweet wife listening to me. Now be quiet or you're going to get in trouble with your husband."

She nodded to him, while closing her eyes. "Thank you for takin' care 'me."

"Time for you to head off to Sleepy Town," he smiled. "I'm going to give you just a little more medicine so you'll be comfortable."

She was so tired that she didn't even feel the needle.

* * *

"Gil, I insist that you go to sleep. I know you want to do all of this, but you won't be able to give good care if you don't sleep. I also know that Anne would never, ever want to see you this tired. Go upstairs, sleep for a while, and I'll be here in this chair. I've been a doctor longer than you have been alive, and I will take care of her as if she is my own daughter," counseled Dr. Stewart.

Gilbert looked at him and was prepared to say that he didn't need any sleep, but he knew he needed just a few minutes to rest his eyes. He was so exhausted that he was beginning to feel nauseated himself. Anne had been stable for almost nine hours.

"I'll go. But the notepad is on the nightstand, and she'll be due for another shot in four hours by the latest. I'll be here for that, though. I've dropped the dose by five percent. If she wakes up while I'm asleep, and she asks about bacon, just tell her that you don't need any," he yawned from exhaustion.

Dr. Stewart's eyes opened a little wider after the last comment and he watched Gil drag himself to the couch. He really wanted him to go upstairs for a real nap, but he was satisfied just to see Gil lie down on the sofa.


	7. Chapter 7

Gil decided to allow himself a two or three hour nap on the sofa. He had been up for almost 30 hours straight and he was fearful of making mistakes if he went much longer without restorative rest. He had been up longer than that before at the hospital, and he knew he could do it. He just certainly didn't want to; not when Anne was the patient.

The front room sofa could have been made of nails and he still would have fallen asleep, he was that tired. He had allowed himself a three hour nap. When he did wakeup, it was almost five hours later, and it was a ruckus coming from the spare bedroom that woke him.

He quickly moved to the bedroom, alarmed at what could be going on. Dr. Stewart was trying to hold Anne's arms still as Anne was trying to move off of the bed.

"Gil," said Dr. Stewart, "Anne is…growing quite agitated, I'm afraid. I think it's the morphine. She was sleeping two hours ago, she woke up confused and she began weeping. I told her that all was well, and she keeps repeating something that I don't understand," he reported.

Gil replaced Dr. Stewart's hands with his own. "Anne," he began in a soft tone, "it's me, Gil. I want you to relax. You need to relax. You are going to hurt yourself if you don't calm down."

"Uhhh," she moaned as she continued to toss from side to side, with tears flowing down her cheeks.

"Dr. Stewart, can you hold her legs while I get her arms? She's going to rip her stitches out before she's done," Gil said.

"Anne, you can't do this. People sometimes get very anxious with pain medication and they get scared. That's what this is about. The morphine is very strong and it's affecting you. Take a deep breath with me."

Gil noticed that she became calmer when he spoke. Her legs had stopped fighting being held by Doc Stewart.

"That's fine. Take another deep breath with me," he urged his wife.

Anne was becoming calmer, but the tears were still coming.

"When did you give her the morphine?" Gil questioned.

"At about four-ten. She began hyperventilating about five minutes later. I've seen this before, usually with Laudanum. If it wasn't for the morphine, we could give her a sedative. I think she's relaxing now. She seems much better with you," Dr. Stewart remarked.

Gil nodded his head while he studied his wife. She began to grow upset again, and she cried, "I have to get him. He's out there. Leave me alone! Let me be! It's raining and I have to get him!"

Anne began moving and twisting her body about the bed, and Gil carefully tightened his grip on her forearms while the other doctor did the same with her legs.

"Anne, this is Gil. You are at home, with me, and everything is fine. You have to stop moving, or you are going to rip your sutures. Stop!" he said more loudly than he wanted to.

Her body stopped moving again, but she was sobbing loudly. "I have to get him. Leave me be! Gil! Don't worry!" she wept.

Gil had an idea and he hoped it would work. He knelt next to the bed and put one of his hands under her head and his other hand lightly over her diaphragm, all the while telling her that he was going to sit with her and stay with her and she didn't have to be afraid because he was right with her.

She gradually began to match her breathing with Gil's. Her sobs began to slow down until they stopped altogether.

"Dr. Stewart, I'm going to stay right where I am, but can you look at the bandage and see if any sutures have torn loose?

"I'll be right back, Gil. Let me wash my hands," he replied.

Gil watched as the older doctor lifted Anne's sheets out of the way, and the bandage was removed. The incision was surrounded by purple and yellow bruises, but the stitches themselves had not torn or puckered. Gil was glad that there didn't seem to be signs of infection forming.

"I'm glad that the topmost stitches seem alright. Why don't you go ahead and dress and bandage and I'll see if I can keep her quiet. What was her temperature the last time it was taken?" asked Gil.

"100.8, down by four tenths of a degree. Gil, you can't kneel next to the bed for an extended time. You'd be more comfortable if you sat next to her. Let me bring the chair over," Dr. Stewart suggested.

As soon as Gil was sitting next to Anne, both men heard knocking at the front door.

"Did anyone call and say they were coming by?" Gil asked.

"Dr. Majors called and said that his housekeeper had made some food and would be bringing it over."

"Can you get the door? She's settling down and I don't want her to become upset again," said Dr. Blythe.

Both Dr. Majors and Agatha, his housekeeper, walked into the front room, both of them carrying dark brown baskets. Dr. Stewart pointed Agatha to the kitchen door and Dr. Majors called to Gil, "How is she?"

"We think she's having problems with the morphine, but she's stable other than that. We both just wrestled her into a stupor. I'm hoping she didn't injure herself. The incision looked none the worse for wear," reported a weary Gil.

"She's a small woman. She may be one of those patients that is hypersensitive to opioids, on top of being petite." Dr. Majors replied. "May I have a look?"

"Absolutely," Gil answered, almost in a stupor himself. "How are Mrs. Majors and the babies?"

"Fine. And loud," smiled Dr. Majors as he pulled Anne's eyelids back to look at her pupils. I don't have a slit lamp, Gil, but her pupils seem appropriate in this light. She hasn't had too much, I think she just had a cumulative reaction. And I have a surprise for you in my automobile."

Dr. Stewart and Dr. Majors both smiled at Gil, giving Gil the impression that Dr. Stewart was well aware of what the surprise was.

"I have brought over my niece, Olivia. She is my brother's oldest, and she just completed the Regents' Hospital Nursing Course, with highest honors, where her father practices. She arrived with him today to assist us with the babies, but Grace's mother is with us, and Olivia actually prefers medical/surgical nursing rather than pediatrics. And don't worry, dear husband, you will still get to do almost everything for your bride, but at least you can get some sleep in," smiled Dr. Majors.

Gil continued to keep himself close to his sleeping wife, but he was visibly touched that he had such kind colleagues.

"I don't know what to say, to any of you, except thank you. Thank you so much," said Gilbert as he nodded his head in appreciation. "We will pay you, of course, Olivia, and I thank you so much for consenting to help my wife and me."

Agatha called Dr. Stewart and Dr. Blythe into the kitchen where roast beef, potatoes, buttered green beans and fruit salad were heaped on plates. They were almost too tired to eat, but the food was so delicious that they found the strength.

"Dr. Blythe," Agatha drawled, " I filled up yer icebox with groceries for the next day or two, and I brought some good clear broth and gelatin for yer misses. Dr. Majors gave me some ideas 'bout what she could have and what to wait on. I also brought a few baskets 'a towels and sheets and blankets and lady's nightgowns since the weather bein' so bad…laundry might be scarce 'til the sun comes a'shinin' again. I'll be comin' back day after next to help with the house and bring groceries from town. All you have to do is let us take care a'you," she proclaimed.

Gilbert was speechless with gratitude. His face showed his guests how thankful he was. With their kindness, he could concentrate on getting Anne healthy. What a gift they had bestowed upon him!

Dr. Blythe told Olivia that they could work out a schedule that would allow one of them to rest while the other slept. He showed her the chart he had made with Anne's information recorded on it.

Dr. Majors took time checking on Anne one last time, and he, too, pronounced her current condition as stable. With that, he and Agatha took their leave and gave Gil instructions to call both of them immediately if there was any concern, no matter how minor. Dr. Stewart reassured Dr. Blythe that he was going to take all of Gil's calls for the time being and hugged him as Gil's own father would have.

Olivia was told to alert Dr. Blythe immediately if Anne became disoriented again, and she promised that she would. She planned to bathe Mrs. Blythe when she next awoke, and Gil wrote orders for broth and water, as well.

Dr. Blythe felt silly writing orders on a notepad. He remained concerned that Anne would panic the next time she awoke if he wasn't near her. He wanted to care for her round the clock, but he was glad that Olivia was there to help watch his beautiful wife.

Gil kissed Anne, listened to her chest with his stethoscope and was satisfied with what he heard. He sat down in the chair next to Anne's bed and placed both of her hands in his, while he prayed that God wrap His arms around her.


	8. Chapter 8

Anne slept peacefully with no more bouts of anxiety while Gil and Olivia discussed Anne's treatment.

Because Anne had been lying down for an extended period of time, he wanted to get her up and walking soon to reduce her chances of developing pneumonia.

Gil was quiet for a while as he sat near Anne and considered the logistics of having Olivia's help with Anne.

He began, "Olivia, I'd like to watch Anne myself for the next few hours. Maybe during that time, you can make yourself comfortable in the guest room at the top of the stairs and rest from your long day. If this is agreeable to you, perhaps you can take over about midnight and then I'll relieve you about five or six in the morning. Would that work or did you have a better idea?"

"Actually, that sounds fine, Dr. Blythe. I slept on the trip to my uncle's house earlier, and I'm not tired at all. I would like, though, to change into more suitable clothing. And thank you, for trusting me to care for your wife," she answered.

"I'm sure you are a very capable nurse, or you wouldn't have finished first in your class, and your uncle is certainly very proud of you" he smiled. "When Mrs. Blythe is awake, she would love to hear all about your schooling and experiences in the hospital, I am sure."

Olivia smiled graciously, happy to know that Dr. Blythe approved of her credentials.

"I'm thinking of moving my wife upstairs to our room, perhaps tomorrow. There is a tree that she is quite fond of, and trying to keep her at rest during her recovery will prove a challenge for both of us, I'm afraid. Anne is…full of….spirited ideas.

The more we can do to insure rest, the sooner she will be healthy again. When she's moved upstairs, you can make this room yours so you can have privacy yourself. You can make use of this downstairs bathroom, as well.

I suggest that you go upstairs and rest yourself for the night ahead of you, but before you settle in, I'd like to get her sitting up and doing breathing exercises tomorrow and she can have a sponge bath as well. The bandage was just changed, so you don't have to worry about that. Perhaps we can even get her standing for a bit, if she's able, pain-wise."

"That sounds fine, Dr. Blythe. I'll make sure I change bed linens before she's moved upstairs.

Dr. Blythe yawned, and said, "Thank you so much for this. I know that Anne will appreciate your help. Time for you to make yourself at home upstairs and rest. See you about midnight?"

"Yes, Dr. Blythe," she nodded happily. Olivia was indeed happy to be at the Blythe home and not at her uncle's, caring for newborn twins. "Twins!" she thought. "That would have been impossibly horrifying."

* * *

When Gil returned to Anne's bedside, he was pleased to see her asleep, but he noticed that Anne pushed the blanket away from herself. The room wasn't overly warm, but perspiration had begun to form around her forehead.

Just as he was beginning to shake down the thermometer, Anne opened her eyes and studied Gil for a moment as she took in what she was seeing around the room.

"What time is it?" she asked in the strongest voice he had heard since her surgery.

"Just after nine pm. How are you?" he asked as he leaned closer to her and took her hand in his and kissed it. "Does anything hurt?"

"I'm fine. A little stiff maybe. Can I have some water?" Anne requested quietly.

"Here you go. Drink it slowly, Anne. Just one sip at a time."

"Can we open up the window a little bit? Just a little bit, for a breeze?" she murmured while she continued to sip from the small cup.

"I thought you might be getting warm. After surgery, some patients feel warm for a while," he explained while he used a cool wet cloth to wipe her forehead. He stood up to open the window just two or three inches, and just for a few moments. "Here's some fresh air for you," he smiled.

Her hand went down to where the bandage was, and she felt one edge of it and took her eyes away from her husband's. "I'm so…" her voice trailed off to nothingness.

"So what, Anne?"

"I don't know what I was going to say, except that I am so stupid and you probably think I'm a ridiculous person for all of this. I'm so sorry for…all of this," she replied as her voice cracked and a single tear ran down her cheek.

"Listen. All I care about is that you were sick and we are going to get you healthy again. When you are back to yourself, I do have quite a lecture ready for you about telling me when you don't feel well, but for now, all I want is for my beautiful new wife to let me do what I can to make her feel good again. You don't have to worry about anything, except for doing exactly what I tell you, of course."

Anne yawned and then began to lift her head up while looking at Gil. "I think it's time that I get up and see if my legs still work. Can you help me?"

"You're not getting up," Gil said in a controlled, calm voice.

"I have to get up. I want to visit the bathroom, and I want to get up. Please, Gil," she responded in an equally controlled, calm voice.

Gil looked at her warily and asked, "How is your incision feeling?"

"Well, it feels puffy and tender, and I don't think I would like someone to kick me in my stitches at the moment, but if you show me how to walk with an incision, I'll be fine."

"I might let you sit up. If you can tolerate that, I'll consider more. Do you really have to go to the bathroom, or are you bored?" he grinned.

"I don't know, but I'm tired of lying down," she said as she stifled a yawn.

"Okay, we'll try. The first thing we do is brace a pillow against your incision, and then I'll support your back. You can slowly draw your legs up a bit; that will help. In a few days, you can use your feet to very slowly push yourself up towards the headboard. By 'few days,' I mean in two or three days! If you have any sudden pain, you stop and tell me. If you don't, I will be fiercely upset with you for a long time and make you sleep outside forever with the wild animals. Do you understand me, Mrs. Blythe?"

Anne nodded her head and said, "I promise."

Gil gingerly placed the nearest pillow near Anne's incision and placed her hand over the location of her incision. "Can you hold this," he said, "while I get your back?"

Anne closed her eyes to concentrate on pulling up her knees toward her while holding the pillow. Gilbert used both hands to glide her up and forward. "How do you feel? Any pain?" he asked.

"It just feels so good to be sitting up a bit. Thank you for the help," she responded.

"I planned on getting you up first thing in the morning. We also have to start on some breathing exercises pretty soon. All you have to do is take some really deep breaths and cough. They aren't hard."

"Can we do that after the bathroom?" Anne requested as she started to push one leg towards the floor.

"Stop, Anne! I told you we are going slowly with this. I'm glad I was here when you woke up! You'd probably be out shoveling gravel if I hadn't been here to prevent you!"

"Gil, I'm not trying to aggravate you, but I really would like to go to the bathroom. If you don't want me to walk, could you carry me? Please, Gilbert?"

"Let's do this. You hold the pillow securely around your abdomen and I will walk next to you. Take very small steps and if you feel out of breath or anything else that I should know about, you tell me," he directed.

"I promise I will do that," she smiled.

Gil sighed and carefully moved one leg at a time until both of them were on the floor. When he was sure that she had a good grasp of the pillow around her middle, he reached both of his hands around her and said, "Ready, wife?"

"Ready and anxious. Let's go," she mustered and slowly divided her weight between the floor and Gil's arms. The room began to spin and she didn't even try to pretend that it wasn't.

"Gil, hold on; I'm feeling rather swimmy at the moment," she whispered as she rested her head against his chest.

"I've got you. Let's just sit for a while and let you get used to this. You've been in bed for awhile and your blood pressure is probably a little low."

"Can we try again in a little bit?" she inquired in a low voice.

"We'll try," he promised.

After ten minutes, Anne said, "Let's try walking again. I'm afraid I'll never get out of this bed if I don't take a walk."

"That's characteristically overdramatic, Anne. You will be feeling loads better each day: chasing cows through potato fields and falling off of ridge poles in less than a week."

"Thank you for your witty repartee, Dr. Blythe. Please just take me to the bathroom," she groaned.

They tried standing up again and Anne's system was better able to handle the change in position. Neither she nor her husband wanted to walk faster than a snail's pace. As they passed over the bathroom threshold, Anne felt sheepish and said, "You know, I actually don't feel as if I need to be in here. I just so wanted to be out of that blasted bed!"

"My dear, since we are in here and it took some time to arrive, let me help you to the commode and you can at least rest before the return trip," said Dr. Blythe.

Mrs. Blythe was fighting dehydration so her instincts upon entering the bathroom were correct, but she was able to make some practical use of the excursion. Gil gave her as much privacy as was possible by keeping one arm on her shoulder and looking away from her.

"Gil! Gil!" Anne suddenly shrieked, "I hear someone! There's someone IN THE HOUSE! "Upstairs! Oh, Gil!"

"Anne, I am so sorry! I forgot to mention Olivia," Gil explained.

Anne lost all of the recent color in her cheeks and was clearly in a panic as she swayed dangerously from side to side as she sat. "Gil, there is someone upstairs IN OUR HOUSE!"

Gil knelt next to her and noticed the color had drained out of her face. "Anne, Dr. Majors sent his niece, Olivia, to the house. She is a nurse. You will like her. I forgot to tell you about her."

"Oh, I…I just heard sounds coming from upstairs and when I was sleeping, I had all of these dreams and I thought I had heard some of those sounds in my dreams."

Anne said, "Can you help me up?"

"I will," Gil started, "but I want to wait until I see a bit more color in your face. While we are waiting, I've been decreasing the morphine dose I've been giving you; do you feel like you need some more when we return you to bed? You probably do need some soon."

Anne looked down at her side. "I'm a little sore, but it's not terrible. Can we just wait a while? It makes me feel really strange."

Gil pushed some hair away from her face and said, "I know. It's strong. We can wait and continue tapering down, as long as you are honest."

"I promise I will tell you the truth. Before all of this, when I was getting sick, I didn't know that I was really getting that sick. I'll tell you the truth, everything, if I feel sick from now on," she promised.

Gil kissed her hair. "You could have died, Anne. You almost did. By not telling me what was happening, you could have died. Never forget that."

"I'm so sorry. How long have we been married now?" Anne asked.

"Six days. Let's get you back to bed," Gilbert suggested.


End file.
